


Not Part of His Plan

by SwampWitchery



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Dalton Academy, Episode Related, Episode Tag, M/M, POV Sebastian, Pre-Slash, Sebastian starts to have feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 19:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7984201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwampWitchery/pseuds/SwampWitchery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place between 3x11 and 3x14. "So when the slushie collides with Blaine’s face instead of Kurt’s pristine Burberry jacket, Sebastian didn’t expect to feel his smile fall and his stomach drop at the sight of Blaine smacking the floor and clutching his face in pain. He then did what any boy with no prior experience with having a conscience would do: he left."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Part of His Plan

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic ya'll. I've jumped on the Seblaine train. I may do a sequel or continue, really I'm just testing out the waters of writing. Enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> Warnings for Karofsky's suicide mention.

Falling for Blaine was never part of the plan.

Taking his hand and pulling him across the shiny polished wooden floors of the Dalton Academy choir room; that was part of the plan.

An innuendo here, and wink there, watching the blush rise to Blaine’s cheeks as he turned his head away; that was part of the plan.

Throwing thinly veiled insults at Kurt, texting Blaine flirtatiously every day and night, even meeting up for coffee to the point he knew Blaine’s usual; that was part of the plan too.

So when the slushie collides with Blaine’s face instead of Kurt’s pristine Burberry jacket, Sebastian didn’t expect to feel his smile fall and his stomach drop at the sight of Blaine smacking the floor and clutching his face in pain. He then did what any boy with no prior experience with having a conscience would do: he left.

 

* * *

 

 

“That was really bad, Sebastian.” Trent paced back and fourth in the choir room, other Warbler’s gathered around, some nodding in agreement while others remained silent, too nervous about the entire ordeal to react.

“I mean really, really, bad.”

“I know, Trent.”

“I mean, its Blaine! He was our friend—is our friend.”

“I _know_.”

“He could be seriously hurt—“

“ _I know!_ ”

All the Warbler’s eyes immediately snapped to Sebastian. He had raised his voice a little higher than he meant to, Trent had stopped pacing and was watching him closely. Sebastian moved off of the armchair and stood, straightening his Dalton blazer before running a hand through his hair in a nervous tick. He needed to leave the room, it was too hot and he couldn’t think straight.

He didn’t get the chance when he got a text telling them to meet Santana in the Dalton orchestra room.

 

 

* * *

 

_“Don’t know if you’ve heard, but Blaine may lose an eye.”_

Sebastian felt his stomach lurch up into his throat but he folded his arms anyway and the next words out of his mouth weren’t an apology but a distant “Bummer”. It was just bravado. He didn’t even intend to duel Santana but he couldn’t stop himself from challenging her to save face, because that’s what he does. He doesn’t back down, he doesn’t apologize, he pushes back and he makes snide remarks and he doesn’t let it show how badly he is affected by the news that Blaine had to have surgery because of a stupid schoolyard brawl gone awry. Except it wasn’t just the schoolyard brawl, _it was his idea_. _His fault_. _His goddamn slushie_. _Blaine had to have surgery because he got too caught up in the idea of winning to even think how badly putting rock salt in a slushie would end_.

He doesn’t put rock salt in the second one but it doesn’t feel good to throw it into Santana’s face either. But he does it anyway because anything less would mean he actually cares about Blaine. And that’s not part of the plan.

 

* * *

 

 

He finds himself outside of Blaine’s hospital room the next day. He brought a bouquet of flowers because it seemed classy at the time but now that he’s actually here he feels stupid and the flowers are stupid and this guilt in the pit of his stomach is stupid and not part of the plan.

He watches a nurse pass him to go into the room and he’s thankful that the blinds are closed so Blaine can’t see him there. When she comes out and asks if he’s ready to go in, Blaine had apparently woken up from a nap, he panics and shakes his head and mutters “Wrong room,” before turning around and moving down the hallway at a fast walk. He ditches the flowers in a trashcan as he rounds the corner and disappears from the patient wing.

 

* * *

 

When he gets the invitation from the Glee club to go to the McKinley school’s auditorium he once again slaps a smile on his face, tilts his chin up and looks down his nose as they dance on stage in celebration of their differences. He wasn’t even disappointed when the rest of the Warblers jumped on stage to sing and dance with them. Seeing that cassette tape dangle from Santana’s fingers didn’t make his stomach lurch like it did when he hurt Blaine. He deserved to get kicked out for what he did; he knew that, which is why when he got back to his dorm he didn’t destroy it immediately. He chucked it into his desk drawer as a reminder of when he went too far. 

 

* * *

 

 

It wasn’t until after Karofsky’s suicide attempt that he finally broke down and texted Blaine.

_Meet me at the Lima Bean._

He didn’t mean for the text to sound as harsh as it did, he even thought about putting “please” in there, but when he typed it he felt his nose scrunch up and deleted it promptly, because this apology was going to be hard as it was and some small part of him almost wishes they wouldn’t show up at all.

He didn’t notice he was holding his breath when he sees Blaine walk in, the Glee club in tow, with his eye patch off and his eye unharmed until he lets it out in a relieved sigh. The apology burns in his throat on the way out. The skepticism in Blaine’s eyes almost breaks him.

He relives the moment he was terrible to Dave Karofsky at Scandals.

_He was there to distract himself from the recent events and from his budding emotions that he so desperately wanted to suppress and what better way to do so then to drink and fuck until he couldn’t feel anything. He used to like the damn place but now all he could think of was pulling a tipsy and carefree Blaine to the dance floor while a jealous Kurt glowered from the bar. He had fun that night, even when Kurt wedged his way between him and Blaine. Now his usual hookups felt emptier than he remembered, the bathroom where they’d get off in felt noticeably more dirty than normal and too brightly lit because he could no longer pretend his partner wasn’t 5’8’’ with curly black hair and bright hazel eyes even when the only light in the room came from neon string lights hung over the door. So after he zipped up his pants and stumbled back into the main dance room to get away from what was now probably an unsatisfied fling, he ordered another beer in hopes of forgetting the whole thing. As if fate wanted to rub salt in his wounds, the same disco song he danced with Blaine to blared to life from the speakers of the jukebox. Feeling his blood boil he stomped over to change the song when a voice hesitantly started behind him, “so, how do you get a guy to like you?” As if a switch activated in his head, Sebastian could feel the insult on his tongue and the urge to release his frustrations on someone new and feel that rush of putting someone down, and he didn’t hold back. He was harsher than usual even, “in fact… stay in the closet buddy.” He can’t remember the last time he said something so cruel._

“It’s all fun and games… until it’s not.”

 

* * *

 

 

He didn’t expect Blaine to text him that night, or ever again. It was a simple:

_Thank you, Sebastian. –B_

Something blossomed in his chest then, something new he couldn’t recognize but was better than anything he had felt before.

And it was certainly never part of his plan.


End file.
